


subatomic particles bursting in the air

by facingthenorthwind (spacegandalf)



Category: due South
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Internalised Homophobia, S01E18 An Invitation to Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 07:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12979056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegandalf/pseuds/facingthenorthwind
Summary: Fraser was far more afraid of the person inside the garbage truck with him than the man outside who wanted to shoot them.





	subatomic particles bursting in the air

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh there's some toxic shit in terms of internalised fuckery here, tread carefully and if it's distressing and you don't know where to turn, my tumblr's in the endnotes. be safe, friends.
> 
> this draws heavily on scenes from 1x18, a transcript of which can be found [HERE](https://nicede.se/dstranscripts/ep118.html) and refreshing your memory from "what's wrong with you?" might be a good idea.
> 
> (I've literally only seen up to this episode so far, so I'm sorry if I've ended up with the wrong end of the stick about some things)

"A woman throws herself at you, you're supposed to--" 

Fraser looked away, struck by the irrational fear she would see it in his face, in his eyes. But then seized by a similarly irrational fear that she would know _because_ he had averted his eyes, he looked back.

"--you're supposed to do _something_."

What was the meaning of the way her eyes flickered down for a second? Did she-- He was glad for the knowledge that there was a man with a gun that wanted to kill them both, because without the way that knowledge kept his mind sharp, he had no idea how he would have survived without blushing or betraying his fear. 

_You're supposed to do something._ And wasn't that the problem. Sure, in this situation he had an ironclad excuse (namely, the man with the gun), but he was a very recognisable person, well known in his neighbourhood -- what if she said something? What if she told someone how he had muttered "thank God" when her attempt at seduction had been interrupted by gunfire? If she mentioned how, once he had given up hope of escaping her hamfisted attentions at the hotel, he had been desperate to get himself bladdered? He'd heard alcohol tasted terrible, but he also knew it was the only way he would have been able to get through whatever was necessary before he could escape without combusting from a combination of shame and embarrassment. Being raised by grandparents and a distant father was never going to provide him with a _healthy_ attitude towards sex, but he suspected that would not completely excuse him. 

Or was that just because he knew his own shame?

His argument with Katherine was at least half on autopilot -- she was to be married! This was wholly inappropriate for reasons that had nothing to do with him being fundamentally broken! The loose thread on his coat caught his attention mostly because he was wishing he were anywhere but here, having this conversation, inside a garbage truck, and while there was a man who could very well shoot them both currently in control of the situation. When the button popped off he didn't even move to retrieve it from the rubbish around them, though he knew he should. He no longer really cared, and he found himself almost laughing at the whole ridiculous situation. What did the button matter, anyway? At least if they both died here, no one would ever know--

He was surprised by the ease with which he lied baldly to Katherine's face -- of course his whole existence was reckless and stupid! He cast around for some example that wouldn't confirm what she surely already thought, what wouldn't incriminate himself, and failed, falling back on the lie. No, he had never done anything reckless and stupid and wild. He hadn't allowed himself to; frozen by the terror of being found out, he had thrown himself into scrupulously following the rules he could so as to act as a distraction, or perhaps character evidence, in the event of the worst. If he buried himself in his community, in the minutiae of the strangers walking down the street, he could forget himself. 

When he had told Katherine he didn't drink because he felt no need to escape, he had been lying then, too. He didn't drink because he was afraid of what he might do without the defences he had so carefully erected and strengthened over the years. He had heard that the pressure people felt (people like him felt) eased when their parents died; but if anything, the death of his father had made it worse. Now, he was all there was to maintain his father's memory as a good and honest and just man. Fraser would be besmirching the name of his father and his family, even if Fraser knew it wasn't his father's fault that he had ended up -- perverted. 

When the garbage truck tipped them out, Fraser almost felt _glad_ that Nigel was out for his blood. He had learnt long ago to accept he was alone and not to fool himself with subatomic particles bursting and disrupting the delicate workings of his inner ear -- but defending it to another person was harder than he expected.

And later, as he danced with Katherine at the consulate, he imagined what his life should have been like (a beautiful woman, his pristine dress uniform, the strings playing "Once Upon a Dream") and he could not remember a time when he felt so profoundly _alone_ , even with her soft hand in his and her body heat radiating through her dress where his arm was wrapped around her waist. 

But he had accepted it. He had faced it, that night in the storm, and there was nothing for him to do but stick to his course. He had been meant for inner ear imbalances, not romance.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ facingthenorthwind
> 
> i actively disliked this episode and would tell people to skip it, so trust that i would write a goddamn fic about it. why @ me


End file.
